Faith's Fortune
by ImaItrew
Summary: Though he has avenged his family, Sebastian is still deeply confused about the direction his life should take. When Isabella makes an unexpected discovery, he turns to Hawke, who must put aside her own troubled relationships to help.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is my latest fic, I hope you all enjoy it. It's a little bit more 'Deepest Road'-esq than 'Truth'

Let me know what you think :)

...

It hadn't seemed so… '_scary'_ when they had stood, side by side at the entrance. Yet now as the pale elf looked down at her tanned companion, steeled in concentration and set at her task, Merril could not help but wish that she had thought better of accompanying on this little venture. Or at least that Hawke were here to talk some sense into the Rivaini.

The tunnel stretched onwards before them; Merril could almost imagine herself in the bowels of the dread wolf, or lost once again in the Deep Roads… either way, it seemed a ridiculous notion that they were beneath the bustling city of Kirkwall… yet that was _exactly_ where they were. Not that that helped her nerves, she had been beneath the ground enough times to know that anything that clung to shadows in the dark places of the world were not likely to be friendly.

"Isabella?" Her voice came out more of a squeak than anything else, and although her friend's replying smile was something of a comfort, it did not cause her to cease her actions nor Merril to cease her shaking.

"Hush, Kitten, it won't be much longer." In spite of her soothing tone however, the hissed curse as she turned away was not lost on the mage. "_Damned_ switch!" The pirate grunted. "Honestly… it's almost like they don't _want_ their treasure to be stolen…"

"Well, they probably don't…"

"Pish posh, Kitten," came the cheery response. "Taking things from rich people and giving them to the poor is _exactly_ what life is about. And I am _very_ poor, so it's only fair…"

Merril frowned in confusion, though she doubted that her friend, fixed on her task, had noticed. "How can you justify _stealing _when all you do is try and get your boat back?

"_Ship_." Came the clipped correction.

"Well, yes… but it's the same thing really, isn't it?"

Even though the pirate's expression was hidden from view, the elf could tell the silence was a little strained as it stretched into a moments. "You didn't _have_ to come along you know…"

"Oh! No!" Came the involuntary squeak, "I didn't… didn't mean it like _that_… it's just… it's just…" She squeezed her eyes shut, willing a _logical _answer. Creator! _Why _was she so bad at this?! The minute she got flustered the words just ran away from her…

Merril was surprised to feel a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know." Came the warm voice. "I'm not going to let _anything_ happen to you, Kitten, don't worry. But you're always saying your want to get stronger… how else do you expect to do that without any practice…?"

"Well, I _suppose_…" the mage ventured a response.

"And _besides_," Isabella leaned in closely wrapping her arm across the young woman's shoulders, so close that the Merril could make out every curve caused by the crooked grin across the rogue's face. "Imagine the _look_ on Fenris and Ander's face when you're kicking their _backsides_ on the battlefield…"

The smile spread to Merril's own lips. "I would rather enjoy that." She admitted. "That would shut them up, wouldn't it?" She giggled.

"Tch, well let's not get _ahead _of themselves… I don't think they're happy if one isn't complaining and the other one isn't looking longingly at certain people and going out for air dramatically…"

"He does give Hawke puppy dog eyes." The mage agreed as Isabella turned her attention back to the switch.

"Hmmmmm, it's a good job I never set sail with him… think I'd have ended up pushing him overboard." She chuckled to herself.

"What do you mean?" Came the expected question.

"Well, you don't want someone with no stamina aboard your vessel… otherwise you may as well walk your own plank…"

There was a moment's silence. "I'm sorry, Isabella, I don't follow…"

"_Sex_, Merril, I'm talking about _sex."_

_"_Well, what have planks got to do with anything… unless you were tying someone _to _a plank…"

"No… _Kitten…"_

"But if Hawke could have tied Fenris to a plank, he couldn't have walked out I suppose so…"

"_Merril! _It's not _literal_. My point _is_ he left after one night with Hawke… doesn't that strike you a little… odd? Maybe his… performance… was a little _wanting?_"

"Maybe it was Hawke that was…"

Isabella snorted. "Not _likely_. You've _seen_ the way he looks at her."

"…I suppose."

"In other news… I _think_…" There was a click, and a rumbling across the floor, "I've sorted this switch…"

"Finally!" Merril smiled in relief, watching as several pressure plates snapped back into place on the floor. "I _knew_ you could do it."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Merril became aware of a shaking in another panel to her right… was that… a hidden _door _being revealed?!

As the light of the shining torches greeted her blinking eyes, Merril saw to her relief, a much cosier looking corridor than the cold, damp turning tunnel that otherwise lay ahead. The way looked mostly dry, and the golden light of the fire, a comfort.

Still, it seemed a vain hope, so before Merril extinguished the light from her staff she thought it was best she checked. "Please tell me that it's this way… and not… you know the other scary _dark_ way…"

"All I can say, Kitten is, if _I _were planning on hiding a precious stone all the way down here, _I'd_ want some comfort." The smile on her lips was small, but the glint of gratification that reflected in her eyes was unmistakable. Merril let her magic fade, yet to her surprise it seemed to make her feel cold rather than relieved. "Now let's go… before the damp sets in places where it's harder to dry."

"You mean like The Hanged Man…? I think it's a bit damp in there too."

The strained look that Isabella gave her was enough to tell her that was, in fact, definitely _not_ what she had meant, but the smirk was enough to let her know that she had brought some amusement to the proceedings, so she decided to leave it at that. Merril's eyes turned back to the corridor, and she felt an icy jolt dart down her spine.

"Um… Isabella. If there's torches lit down here… do you think there might be someone _lighting_ them… do you suppose?"

The question was answered for her, when several shadows shifted from somewhere within the tunnel, and there was the unmistakable sound of heavy footfalls. Footfall that grew thunderously louder as the seconds moved by.

Isabella's tongue clicked against her teeth in annoyance, her stance shifted and her hands raised to the daggers at her back. "How _annoying_. Well, stay near me, Kitten, I'm sure it won't be more than we can handle."

Merril was sure that the ground had begun to shake, and that the light of the torches had dimmed as the men strode forward, shadows silhouetted against the darkness behind. The glint of a sword here, an axe there… and was that… a symbol she was sure that she recognised…

But there was no time for that, Isabella had already engaged. Merril pulled her magic forward, and threw a ball of raging fire at the mercenary closest to her. He flew backwards and landed in a tangle of limbs and a chorus of groans. Of course, that did not stop the others from charging, as the distinctive scent of charred flesh wafted over the room…

….

The smug grin across Hawke's face as she laid her cards on the table was very nearly enough to make Varric scowl. "I _win_." She declared in an unassuming tone that was betrayed only by the triumphant gleam in her eyes.

"You _cheat_." He corrected.

"Now, now Varric…" The blonde chirped perkily as she collected both decks for a re-shuffle. "What's that you used to tell me? Nobody likes a bad loser… and you _are_ losing badly…"

Varric muttered darkly, begrudgingly reaching into his increasingly empty pockets. "Either the Rivaini's been teaching you tricks behind my back or you're not as dumb as you look."

"Oh! I don't know about _that_… I could always bring up that time that I let you fool me into that little… _endeavour_ at 'The Blooming Rose'… _what_ was that again?"

The merchant felt his cheeks flush slightly, but he kept his steady expression none-the-less. "… now Hawke, there's no need to bring that up…"

"Oh yes… paying off your tab, wasn't it…?"

"What's a little fun and frolics between friends?"

"With an _extortionate_ amount spent on Donna the Dwarven Dominatrix?"

"That woman was very dear to me…!"

Hawke's eyebrow arched and the smugger than smug smile returned. "You probably should have haggled then…"

Varric's eyes narrowed, he snatched the last coin he had been holding back from its hiding place and all but slammed it on the table. "Well _played_, Hawke."

"Oh… don't give me that look! It's not like your coin isn't going to be spent on the swill you drink _anyway_…" She beckoned to the woman behind the bar, who set to getting their drinks in spite of the busy crowd. Apparently the benefits of keeping the Champion happy were not completely lost on the staff here at the Hanged Man.

The frothy flagons arrived swiftly, and as Hawke turned to thank the girl, Varric swiftly collected the cards from the table… eager to ensure that there would be no more loss from his wallet tonight. "So…" He leaned back, collecting his drink from the table, "it's been a while, my dear Hawke, how's life?"

She sighed, "Ohhhh, same old same old. Getting covered in blood, killing bandits, slaying demons, avoiding a certain Knight-Captain…"

"Clinging to old flings…" He added.

She blinked, seeming a little taken aback for a moment. "I am _not_ 'clinging to old flings'!" She retorted, though the merchant noticed she took a nervous sip from her drink.

"You are _so_."

"Am _not_."

"Listen to yourself, Hawke! If you were any further in denial it'd count as a vacation..." He waited for a moment, taking in the sight of her red cheeks, slightly angered expression and pursed lips before daring to continue. "I'm not saying give _up_ on the Elf, I'm just saying… well… if you never let off any steam your cogs will get all het up."

Her expression moved from one of mild anger to one of utter bemusement. "That makes no sense… but I'm a little disturbed that I know what you mean… or at least _think_ you mean…"

He shrugged, "I'm a natural storyteller, sometimes the important details are delivered by images we don't expect…" His eyes raised to take in the figure rapidly closing in at Hawke's shoulder. "Speaking of things we don't expect… Aveline! What a surprise! It's not every day the only two women in Kirkwall that can scare me shitless are in the same room as…"

The look of anxiety that was evident when she came closer was enough to cut Varric off. "Hawke! We need to go _now_." The red-head leaned in and hissed urgently.

"Aveline, what's-?" The concern on Hawke's face was blatant

"We'll talk on the way to Ander's clinic."

"Why to Ander's clinic?" Varric cursed. "Is Blondie alright?!"

The sombre expression turned to face Varric. "_He_ is, yes… Merril and Isabella on the other hand…"

The bench scraped loudly as Hawke and Varric surged to their feet. Their drinks now forgotten.

"Let's go."

…..

Fortunately, they met little resistance en route to Ander's clinic. Perhaps it was the grim expression across their faces that conveyed to those normally stupid enough to try their luck that tonight was definitely _not_ the night. Perhaps it was that Fenris had already cleared the way when Aveline had sent him ahead.

Whatever the reason, it was something Hawke was immensely grateful for. She fought the urge to break into a run when the still small figure of Isabella came into view, apparently waiting for their arrival. The only thing that stopped her was, in fact, the slouching elf that stood by her side, his white hair almost luminous in the torch light. Her stomach lurched, it wasn't as hard as it had been the first few times, but it still set her on edge when they were together.

He turned his eyes to take her in as the trio approached; her cheeks burned a little when she realised his gaze lingered with her a moment before he shifted. She hastily turned her attention to the Rivaini, who although sported a few shallow cuts and bruises, seemed none to worse for wear… But that had to mean…

"Where's Merril?" She demanded, almost in an accusatory tone.

The pirate's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Thank you, Hawke, I'm _fine_…" Came the sarcastic response.

"Well she can see _that_ much by looking at you, idiot." Aveline bit back.

Hawke pursed her lips, and looked to Varric for assistance.

He gave her a nod of understanding. "Look Rivaini, what we _mean_ is we're glad you're ok… but if you're fine then where is Daisy?"

"Anders is working on her." Her voice was soft, and Hawke was certain she could hear guilt in her tone, and see regret etched across her features.

It made Hawke take pause. The elven mage meant a lot to the rogue, this couldn't be easy for her. Maker! She knew how _she_ felt whenever anything happened…

"What happened, Isabella?" She asked softly. "How bad is it?"

The pirate shrugged. "It's not as bad as you think. I just needed to get outside for a bit."

"That's normally _Fenris' _line," Varric cut in. The elf scowled at him.

Isabella's eyes closed before she continued. She sucked in a breath and let it go slowly. If Hawke didn't know better, she would have thought her friend close to tears. "It's _me_ she took the hit for. I didn't even know she was anywhere near me until… it's like she just appeared and threw herself in the way…"

"That's not your fault, Isabella," Hawke assured, "she's done that to me a few times, I think it's a spell that she…"

"I don't _care_ what it was." The rogue growled. "I told her I would keep her safe and I didn't."

"Come _on_, Rivaini," Varric offered. "Enough of the guilt trip! You got her back safe. You killed whatever bastard did this, didn't you…?" She replied with silence and a strained look. "Of _course _you did." He finished for her. "So what say we go and see how Daisy's doing?"

Isabella nodded her response, yet Aveline seemed to pay little heed to such details, and was already banging at the door with her armoured fist.

There was the sound of shuffling before the door creaked open, revealing a rather worn out looking Anders. He blinked a few times as if in surprise.

"What's the matter, Blondie? Expecting someone else?" Varric quipped.

"Not at all, I'm just not used to any of you _knocking_." He smirked before looking to Hawke. "Stop looking so _worried_. Come in, Merril's been asking for you all."

"Even me…?" Fenris queried sceptically.

"**No one** asks for _you_…" Came the curt response as Anders turned to disappear into the room.

Hawke followed, the rest of the party filing into the room behind her.

Merill lay on one of Anders' makeshift beds, impossibly even paler than usual. A warm blanket draped over her thin frame, a small, happy smile spread thinly across her lips. Her shaking arm outstretched to welcome her friends. Hawke took her hand and smiled gratefully at the mage.

"You gave us quite the scare, Daisy."

"How are you feeling, Kitten?" Isabella was swift to follow, concern plain to see across her face.

"I _told_ you, Isabela, I'm _fine._"

"That_ bastard_ won't be when I catch up to him… he will _rue_ the day…" The rogue growled venomously.

"Now just hold on there, Rivaini," Varric interrupted, "You mean the son-of-a-bitch isn't _dead_? Anders my friend, I think we just found you a new patient."

The healer gestured around the mostly empty beds. "I'm afraid I'm a little busy to be taking on more workload, Varric. However, if you'd like to take her temperature I'd be happy to find you a box to stand on."

Isabella gave them both a look stern enough even to silence the dwarf before replying. "I never _said_ I'd killed him,_ did_ I? Kitten went down, I had other priorities… _and_ we were outnumbered…"

"Which leads me to ask…" Aveline cut in, "what _were_ you two up to? I know that you've not left the city…"

"And how do you know _that_, exactly?" The rogue barked.

"I keep my eye on you all… after all, prevention is better than cure… and _some_ of you," her eyes fell to the dwarf who suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor, "require more damage control than others…"

"Like when he doesn't pay his tabs…" Hawke agreed.

"_Or_ when he tries to tell Seneschal Bran that I have cleared all of the shipments he imported and I have _personally_ vouched that the contents were sound…"

"There was _nothing_ wrong with those crates!"

"_Nothing_ except they were so full of forged documents every refugee in Kirkwall could have had a new identity by the next day!"

"But the _crates_ were perfectly sound!" He smirked, nudging Merril in the arm and earning a cheery smile from her. "Besides, my dear Guard Captain, I would have thought you most sympathetic to the plight of those poor…"

"Don't change the subject! Where _were_ you two? A force of this number and of this level of aggression _must_ be reported to the Guard. We _need_ to bring them to heel as swiftly as possible."

"Indeed." Anders chimed in. "Then perhaps you can all go home and let me _sleep_. And we should probably sort this out before Aveline's skin colour starts matching her _hair,_ because I don't think I have a potion to fix that..."

Isabella grunted, looking to Merril, the apology all but etched into every wrinkle of worry. "We have to tell them, Isabella. Before Sebastian finds out like _we_ did…" Merril gave a nod. "We've fought them before," the elf told the group, "but I've never seen so _many_ of them…"

"Who are they, Merril?"

"The Flint Company." Isabella answered for her. "I overheard some old sod on about a passage way in one of the old bandit headquarters… I forget what they were called now… and he was _saying_ that before their _demise _at our own fair hands, they were protecting a stone beneath the ground. Well, of course we expected maybe a few rats, but it seemed so _tragic_ to leave something so shiny all alone in the dark. But they were waiting for us... almost like they were expecting someone all along…"

Hawke's breath hitched and Aveline cursed. "A trap. And I think we can guess who for…"

"Yeah… good job Choir Boy's too posh for the likes of Lowtown…" The dwarf chuckled.

Isabella smirked drily. "Too _snooty_, more like."

"But it stands to reason that they will not just lay the bait in obvious places." Fenris pointed out, his brow furrowed in thought. "If nothing else, Danarius has taught me that much. We should find him, Hawke. To be forewarned is to have the advantage."

"That sounds like the best plan, Elf." The merchant agreed. "Let me send out the word, I'll get the story before you know it. Then we can find each and every one that got away and make them sorry they crossed us. _No _one hurts Daisy and gets away with it." He patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"And _I'll_ see to it that patrols are doubled between Darktown and Lowtown. I'll not see any civilians being put at risk by cutthroats." Aveline turned on her heel and marched out of the door before Hawke could call out after her. Varric made good on his plans and left immediately for the Hanged Man. Isabella wanted to stay with Merril, Anders needed to sleep and soon… almost as if it had been set up, Hawke and Fenris found themselves outside the clinic with only one another for company.

Apparently they both seemed as eager as one another to avoid their gazes meeting. "So…" Hawke began nervously.

"So…"

Hawke could feel the blush spread across her cheeks. "Your hair looks good, have you done something with it?"

"Washed it." Came the curt reply.

Her cheeks all but burned. _Maker! He knew how to make things difficult!_

"Brilliant. On with the sarcasm already…"

He blinked. "To be honest, I'm not sure what other answer you _expected_."

"Well… now that _that_'s all sorted and you're not making this awkward at _all_… maybe we should just get this over with…" She went to walk on ahead - it was quite a way to the Chantry, after all - but he called for her to stop.

"Hawke." She turned to face him. "I'm sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable. It is never my intention to cause you distress."

She sighed, a sigh of frustration more than sadness. "You don't make me feel 'uncomfortable', Fenris, you make me feel _confused_."

To her immense surprise, she thought she saw a smirk grace his face in the shadows. "It seems that is a gift we share. But come, this is not something we should delay, if there is talk to be had we should have it on the way…"


	2. Entanglements

Sorry for the long delay, it's been mad for me the passed couple of moths, I'm amazed my head is still on my shoulders lol!

Anyway, I hope that this chapter is well received :) please read and review.

Apologies for the dodgy first upload, my computer wasn't playing nice, second time lucky, eh?

...

By the time Hawke and Fenris had reached the Chantry, the small talk and pleasantries were as dry as a desert. It seemed an eternity since both had opted for silence and although this had removed the chance of saying what could be very much the wrong thing, it had replaced nervousness with a stern quietness that neither seemed confident enough to break.

It was a combination of relief and confusion that Hawke felt when she saw Sebastian on the steps to the Chantry, leaning against one of the steady stone structures as if tired of waiting for them to arrive.

"Hawke," he nodded to her as they came closer. "I had anticipated your visit a little earlier."

"And _why_ would you anticipating a visit?" Fenris queried in a scathing and deep tone that Hawke knew all but too well…

"We're _friends,_ Fenris." She bit back, before returning her attention to Sebastian. "He _does_ have a point though, why _were_ you expecting a visit?"

His crisp blue eyes turned to her, as if to take her in. "Apologies, I fear I have explained myself poorly. I heard of Merril and Isabella's troubles, tell me, are they both well?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "How _exactly_ do _you_ know about that…?"

"I didn't realise you have eyes in Darktown…" Fenris cut in, almost accusingly.

Sebastian gave the elf a steady look before giving a sigh. "I would have expected you of _all_ people to understand, that the roots of our past can spring up anywhere… it is wise to learn where they are lest you trip…"

"Hmmm… a fine speech, but in my experience flowery words often conceal other intentions…" The swordsman's tone and words gave no intention he was about to let this line of enquiry go… not even when held under Sebastian's austere stare.

"I'm not sure what you would like me to say. I had heard that the Flint Company were making a presence once more in Kirkwall, it seemed in my best interests to keep abreast of certain developments. In spite of Lady Harriman's defeat, there are still many that would wish me dead."

"But we destroyed the Company didn't we?" Hawke frowned.

The archer smiled softly. "My dear Hawke, you didn't _honestly_ think you had wiped out the _entire _company did you?"

"She's done it before. You should have seen her in her prime…"

Hawke's cheeks suddenly burned with heat, embarrassment or anger… probably both. "What do you _mean '_**my **_**prime'**_?!" She stopped herself. She was sure she could see that mocking smile in the shadows. Fenris, however, was careful to avoid meeting her gaze. She cursed to herself, how easily he could rile her still. "Have you learned anything useful so far?" Hawke asked in a professional tone, eager to wipe that undoubtedly smug grin from the swordsman's face.

"Nothing, other than the common sense not to venture far from the Chantry at night alone. But I suspect that is something most citizens of this city learn at a young age."

"What about a stone?" Hawke asked, recalling what Isabella had said.

Suddenly, Sebastian's languid manner and soft expression changed. "What stone?" He demanded, and somehow Hawke was certain that he already knew the answer to his own question.

"You'll have to ask Isabella that… that's what they were looking for when they were attacked."

"… you must take me to them now…"

Hawke blinked. Fenris groaned. "I'm not sure what you expect at this hour, the witch is recovering from her wounds and the other's probably passed out in her own vomit as we speak."

"He's right, Sebastian," though she shot the elf a filthy glare. "Not the 'witch' bit or 'vomit' part… alright… actually, _probably_ the 'vomit' part… but this can wait until the morning, can't it? You've said it yourself, it would be_ safer_ to wait until morning…"

Sebastian shook his head and lifted his bow to his shoulder. "This cannot wait, Hawke. If this is what I think it is, you'll understand why… Besides, I said _alone_. Who would dare hurt me with the mighty Champion by my side?"

Hawke gave a small sigh in defeat and shrugged her shoulders. "Who needs sleep anyway?"

"More walking. _Wonderful_…" Fenris grunted loudly. Yet rather than offer any argument, he simply turned and started making his way towards the downward flight of stairs, stretching as he did so.

Hawke watched him go, musing to herself. She certainly did know how to complicate her life… Her attention was returned to her when a hand clasped her warmly around the shoulders.

"You wouldn't have it any other way…" He smiled almost wistfully, also watching after the retreating figure.

She stifled the snort. "Almost… I could do without the scowling…"

…..

Predictably, the scene that awaited them at Ander's clinic was much as had been anticipated. Merrill lay still, impossibly pale, dwarfed by the huge mantle Anders had offered her to keep her warm. Isabella would have been seated upright… if it weren't for the fact she had apparently collapsed face first into the table before her, and Anders was nowhere to be seen. Hawke could understand that… even _she_ wasn't safe from the rogue's advances when she'd had a few. He'd probably even locked the door to his quarters to ensure his personal safety.

Sebastian entered the room first, with a determination that somehow reminded her of Aveline. His eyes fixed on Isabella's sleeping form. He approached her and took hold of her shoulder. "Wake up." It sounded stern, and cold, and authoritative… a far cry from the gentle tone she was used to. Whatever that stone was, it had to be important. Even the pirate's shrugs and mumbled threats of decapitation did not seem to deter him. Isabella's irritation won out long before Sebastian's perseverance. "What the _hell_ do you want?! Can't a girl get a night's sleep?" She flopped forward dramatically, burying her head in her hands.

"Not when that '_girl_' has something that belongs to _my __**family**_. That stone belongs to Starkhaven… not to _you_."

The dark-haired woman looked up to him. "I don't know what you mean."

His concentration did not shift. "You told Hawke you went after a stone, where is it now?"

Isabella's eyes swung to the sleeping form mere feet away from where they were, before returning to angrily meet the archer's stare. "I don't _know_, I had other things to worry about."

"I don't believe you." He stated simply.

The pirate's expression darkened, and Hawke and Fenris tensed. Sebastian seemed unmoved.

"Sebastian, I think she's telling the truth…"

"No, Hawke," he shook his head, "she lied about the Qunari relic, she's lying about this…"

Isabella's eyes rolled… "and _again_ with the relic! When are you going to let that go?"

"When I can trust you again. I am not like Hawke, my loyalty is not so easily regained… and you are doing yourself no favours now in that regard."

They stared each other down, as if willing the other one to break. Hawke and Fenris shared a look of puzzlement before smirking at each other. If it hadn't been for the tension in the room and the scowls across their faces, it might have been a romantic encounter going on between the pirate and the prince. Although the swordswoman thought better of encouraging them to kiss…

After moments that seemed to stretch into hours. Isabella groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers and closing her eyes. "Ugh, I'm too hungover for this. What's so important about a _stone_ anyway?"

"So you admit that you have it?"

"… I didn't say that…"

"But you _do_ have it, don't you?"

"No, I don't. And even if I _did_ have it, it's my plunder not yours." She told him firmly.

The archer seemed taken aback, though the fire in his eyes did not fade immediately. Rather it lingered, as if he were trying to decide if she were telling the truth. The moment he realised that her stance was not shifting, his shoulders seemed to slump a little and his gaze strayed from her stare to the floor. "Is that so?" His tone was soft again, though now his sadness was plain for all to see. The room seemed to float in his silence for a few moments, all traces of the resolve he had had only seconds before had faded into what seemed despair. He didn't move, just stood and stared.

Hawke looked to Fenris, whose expression seemed softer than usual. She could understand that, after all, more than anyone he knew what it was like to find something again only to have it ripped away. She had never had that experience. Everything she had lost was gone forever, and she had no delusions she was ever going to get any of it back. An image of her mother's face floated into her mind, almost as if her ghost were in the room. Hawke pushed it away, this was not about her losses.

After yet more silence, in which Isabella appeared to have returned to sleep, Hawke heard an irritated grunt, almost as if Sebastian's quiet melancholy annoyed her. "You know… you have _some_ nerve. You barge in here, wake me up to interrogate me over something I am _completely_ innocent of, than you stand around invading my privacy…"

"Isabella, this isn't your house!" Anders voice came from the back room.

The Rivaini ignored him. "And _then_ you have the nerve to play the sympathy card! Look, I don't have the stone… but I did see it. I'll take you to it, if it's that important to you…"

"Then we leave…"

"In the _morning_…" Hawke cut in firmly. "I'm not risking any of us getting in to anymore trouble... or bandages…"

"And we need rest." Fenris agreed.

Sebastian looked unconvinced, but seemed steadied. "Aye. Then it is agreed. I'll see you in the morning, Hawke; I shall remain here for the rest of the night."

There was a shuffling, and a clink, and the door to Ander's chambers swung open, framing the blonde mage in the door in little but his smalls. His eyes were tired, his shoulders slumped, and his expression unamused. "Oh _good_… that's just what I wanted to overhear in _my own house_. Please, everyone take up a bed, come along share my food… hurry Hawke, invite in those Templars that are always hanging around outside, no point in having a party and not inviting _everyone_…"

"For some reason I'm sensing some sarcasm in your tone." Fenris quipped; although the amusement at Anders frustration was evident by the small smirk across his face.

Hawke shot him an annoyed frown before looking back to the mage. "Calm down, Anders; as… 'cosy'… as your clinic is I still think I'd prefer my own bed, thank you very much."

"Indeed," the elf beside her snorted, "you couldn't _pay_ me to sleep here."

"You couldn't pay me to have you." The blonde man bit back.

"Great. Right, well now that we've _finally_ established that you two don't like each other," the blonde swordswoman interceded before the bickering could escalate, "perhaps we should all get some rest?"

"Agreed," Isabella replied immediately, slumping back to her original position on the table "last thing we need is an even grumpier Tevinter fugitive…"

…

"It's been a while since I've had an evening be so… _strenuous_." Fenris grunted, as they made their way, yet again, to Hightown.

"I suppose this has been a bit more draining than smashing wine bottles against the wall." Hawke huffed out; it wasn't just the hour that burdened her enthusiasm, the amount of running around she and Fenris had done had done her no favours… and to think there was probably a battle waiting for them on the dawn… it wasn't a pleasant thought. Not on what would only be a snatched amount of sleep.

"Actually I ran out of wine… now I just stare at them…"

"The wine rack?" She queried confused.

He gave her a strained look. "The _walls_."

"… you really know what it means to 'live on the edge', don't you?"

"You are all the excitement I need."

He probably hadn't meant it as it came out. He probably meant it perfectly innocently. But that didn't stop the blood from rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping.

No. She wouldn't do this to herself.

"Well I suppose all the blood and guts we wade through could be described as 'exciting'…"

"… that's not what I meant."

The blonde was sorely tempted to ask the elf what he _had_ meant, even though she knew it wasn't a good idea. It wasn't like he was about to declare his undying love… and to be honest, given how their relationship had been on such shaky ground recently, she wasn't sure how she would feel if he did.

"Yes, well, this is my stop," she nodded gratefully towards the mansion, "I'll be sure to provide sufficient excitement for you tomorrow... with any luck... See you at the clinic bright and early."

He gave her a doubtful look, one almost of scepticism. "Hawke, you don't honestly think she **didn't **take that stone, do you? Isabella is nothing if not predictable in her... well..."

"Fenris." She cut in sternly. "Isabella said she didn't take it and I believe her. That's the end of it."

"Your faith, as always, is admirable, enough to move a man... but I cannot help but wonder if it is always as well placed as your intentions."

The blonde felt her anger fizz... this coming from _him?_ "Perhaps you're right, perhaps I should be more picky about who I put my trust in." She bit back. Though as soon as she had she regretted it. The hurt look that crossed his wide eyes was enough to ensure that. Though it did not quell her annoyance or her discomfort.

"Hawke...I just... I worry..."

This wasn't fair. He had no right to say these things... or rather he did, but she didn't want to hear them.

She spun on her heel and made for the mansion. "Well don't. I'm not yours to worry about."

…...

Although he was desperately tired, Fenris could not sleep. He cursed himself.

As much as he tried, he could not fight the affection that he felt for her. As much as he tried to stay away, his feelings just came spilling out sometimes. It wasn't fair to her. To keep her at arms length when all he wanted to do was embrace her. It was one thing to be conflicted himself, but to cause her confusion...

She deserved to be happy, but in spite of his best intentions all he seemed to bring her was sadness. It hurt him more than he could ever say.

More than anything he wanted to see her smile, and more than anything he wanted to be the one to make her. More than anything he wanted to kiss her again, and feel her skin against his and take her in...

But what fantasy was this? That he could deserve her? Perhaps it would have been better if she rebuffed him when they first met? What right had he to such happiness? What right had he to think he could be the one to make her happy?

"_Venhedis!"_ He sat up. Perhaps it would have been better if they'd spent _all_ night walking, then he wouldn't have ended up alone in these blood and wine stained halls, wallowing in nothing but his own misery and doubt.

So many times, he had come close to telling Hawke exactly how he felt. So many times his own fear had won out. Fear over what she would say... fear over what Danarius would do if his love ever became known to his former master...

He groaned... he wasn't much of a drinker... unless Varric had anything to do with it... but suddenly he was wishing that he had some wine left...

…...

Hawke swore as she barged through the door. She took pause, waiting for her mother's angry form to burst from her chambers and give her a good telling off for all the racket she was making at such an hour... instead all that emerged was a weary and worried looking Orana.

Somehow, it all seemed so impossibly empty.

They had come to Kirkwall together, and now she was alone. She had always fought for everything she had, yet now... it didn't seem enough.

"Mistress! I've been waiting for you."

"You didn't need to do that, Orana."

"But, your meal!" The girl objected.

"Wrap it up for me. I've an errand to run in the morning and I may be gone a while." She moved to climb the stairs. Orana made no such motion however, instead she stared at her mistress, eyes wide, lips pursed... as if holding in what she wanted to say but it may cause her to burst. Hawke groaned, "spit it out, already."

Mistress, if I may... you've barely been home since... since..."

"What of it?"

"It's just... I _worry_..."

Hawke glanced at the closed door to her mother's chambers. She felt a lump in her throat. "We deal with grief in our own way, Orana, some cry..." She gave the elf a weak smile that wouldn't even have fooled Merril, "I bathe in the blood of my enemies..."

"I still cry for Papa..." The young woman reflected quietly, though the utterance didn't go unheard by the blonde as she ascended the staircase. Yet, as much as Hawke knew the elf was probably in need of comfort too, she couldn't bring herself to give it. She slid to the floor as the door gave a satisfactory click behind her, tears falling silently down her cheeks.

_I'm sure he misses you too, Orana._

…...

Unsurprisingly, Hawke did not find much sleep. She was waiting for the sun to come up. Her armour seemed heavier than usual, but it was a welcome change to the tears that she had worn the last few hours. She sometimes wondered how much of 'Hawke' was left behind the plate she wore.

By the time she pushed her way out of the door, armed with her sword and whatever new vile concoction Orana had thrown together, there was a chill across Hightown and a stillness that the blonde welcomed. She thought better of calling on Fenris... after all she hadn't been overly pleasant at their parting last night. It was probably best to allow him space.

Ironic really... once she had felt closer to him than anyone else, yet now the distance between them seemed to yawn like an open cavern. Hawke rebuked herself silently. There was no point wishing on what once was... or what she could never get back...

"Hawke..." A stern voice interrupted her thoughts.

_Not now._ "Aveline! Well isn't this a pleasant surprise!"

"No time for pleasantries, Hawke... where are they?"

Hawke blinked. "Who?"

"You _know_ who!"

"I hate to point this out Aveline, but if I _knew_ 'who' I wouldn't have asked."

"That drunken trollop and that insufferable, preaching..."

"Isabella and Sebastian? Ander's clinic, why?"

"No they're not." The Guard Captain told her sternly, "a few of the guards I posted in Darktown saw a shifty pair running around... matching their description... I thought you had this in hand, Hawke?"

"I do... well... I _did_... well... look, I'm allowed to sleep, aren't I?" Hawke enquired, a little irritated by her friend's accusatory manner, although being honest she should have been used to it by now. "Besides, what makes you so sure it was them? I'm sure there's lots of people who look like..."

"The woman was swigging from a hip flask while complaining about a hangover and the man with the bow was asking the Maker for strength in his hour of need..."

"Well... I suppose that _is_ rather conclusive." The blonde conceded.

"Hawke!" Another voice called her name, but this tone was far more urgent than Aveline's. Anders, swiftly followed by Varric... their expressions etched with worry. They came to a panting halt when they reached the women, a crumpled note firmly in the mage's grip.

"A love letter... for me? Anders, you shouldn't have... though it isn't really traditional to give them in person..."

"It's a _ransom _note." The mage huffed out, as he thrust it in her grasp.

"Seems the Rivaini and Choir Boy were in no mood to wait for back-up... we only get them back if we give them the stone."

"Well that's just stupid..." Hawke snorted, as she and Aveline examined the letter, "why would they trade us the person they set up the trap for for the bait they set it up with?"

"Perhaps they never intended to lose the bait... maybe it is as valuable as Choir Boy said." Varric offered. "But what I don't get is where did the stone go... did the Rivaini hide it or...?"

"She said she didn't take it."

"Oh _please_, Hawke, you don't believe that..." Aveline's eyebrow sprung to above her fringe. "I have to keep an eye on the _cutlery_ whenever she comes near the Barracks..."

"Always the suspicious one, Aveline... and that was one time, let it go already..."

"Point is," Varric cut in, "Hawke has a point. The Rivaini _did_ say she didn't take it... but more importantly, do we really think she'd let it out of her sight if she had something _that_ shiny? But, if she didn't take it then..."

Hawke caught Varric's eyes the minute the realisation took him. "Isabella wasn't the only one in that hideout. And Merril wasn't conscious when Sebastian was asking about the stone... she probably doesn't even know what it is."

Varric smirked. "Never took Daisy as the pick-pocketing type."

"Well _technically_ it's not pick-pocketing, and maybe she learned from the best..."

…...

It had been decided fairly quickly that, given the note had been left at Ander's clinic, that is probably wasn't a safe place for Merril to recover... especially with her being an obvious target for the enemy. Aveline had retrieved some off-duty clothes from the Barracks to serve as a disguise for the mage... not that Merril was in much of a condition to argue. Still unconscious as Donnic had picked her up, all she had managed since her ordeal were confused words and croaks calling for water.

"This feels wrong." Anders grumbled as he reached into the various pockets in the elf's clothes.

"Interesting... did you say that when you took her clothes _off_?" Hawke queried with a sly grin.

A furious blush rushed the healer's cheeks. "I had other things to focus on... besides, there's not much Merril has that interests me..."

"Oh, I'm sure she has two..."

"Hawke!"

"Honestly, Anders, calm down... Varric's taken her to the Hanged Man, it's not like she can hear you..."

"No, but I can hear _you. _I wonder how Fenris coped with you sometimes..."

Hawke tensed, but then reminded herself that his response had been somewhat provoked. "There was no coping involved, he walked away remember...?"

Anders' blush had gone, instead now he wore more of a wince, "I know. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that."

"Forget about it." Hawke forced a smile, "_He_ certainly seems to have. Besides, there's plenty more fish in the sea... or so I'm told..."

"...do you mean that?"

"Well _yes_, I'm sure there's plenty of fish in the sea... that's where 'fishermen' go after all..."

"Hawke," his softened tone almost demanded her attention, "do you _mean_ it?"

It was Hawke's turn to find the blood rushing to her cheeks, "I suppose I do."

His smile made her smile in return. "That's good to hear. I've been worried."

The blonde rolled her eyes... "Maker! Fenris, Orana... _you_...why does everyone _always_ worry about me?"

"Because I care. Perhaps more than I should." His gaze lingered with her, a gaze that Hawke pretended she hadn't noticed as she rummaged through the last item of Merril's gear. Though when she risked a quick glance her blush intensified when her eyes caught his.

"...Anders, are you trying to flirt with me?"

"I don't flirt, I state facts."

"Oh ok... Anders, are you 'stating facts' at me?"

His shrewd smile told her all she needed to know. "Maybe I am."

If Hawke _had_ a response it was taken by the triumphant call of delight when a small, blue stone fell from Merril's pouch. "I do believe, we have found our stone." When she held it to the light to examine it, it didn't seem much, and it wasn't even big enough to fill the palm of her hand, but when Anders reached out there was a flare of light.

Although it made the two jump with surprise, once Anders withdrew the stone fell still once again. "Well, safe to say it reacts to magic. So, where are we supposed to make the trade again?"

Hawke gave him a weary look. "You don"t _actually_ think we're going to _trade_ this do you? Do you _want_ one of Sebastian's arrows in your neck?"

…...

"Weeeell, isn't this _cosy_." Isabella gave a strange smile as she stretched and leaned back against the wall.

The archer gave her a strained stare. "I believe we have different definitions of 'cosy'." He snorted, raising his manacled arms to prove his point.

The pirate chuckled, "speak for yourself, I rather like being in chains... though admittedly this isn't my preferred setting for them..."

"I'm not asking..."

"Are you sure? I've got some good stories..."

"Maker, help me woman, do you never stop?" Sebastian groaned irately, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

She blinked, "occasionally, but only when I've drunk too much to keep going."

"Isabella, please... just... stop talking... I need to _think_..."

It was the thief's turn to give a dissatisfied grunt. "Look, there's no point taking it out on me. It was _your_ idea to go without the others to avoid Aveline getting involved... What's so important about the damned stone anyway?"

"...That's none of your concern."

"Is it not? And here was me thinking I was chained to a wall in some thug's cellar because of it..."

"It belonged to my father, that's all you need to know for now. I'll explain more when we get out of here."

"Hmmm... Hawke_ is_ taking her time coming to the rescue..."

She fell silent when she noticed his annoyed expression. "_Hawke_ shouldn't have to come to _our_ rescue. But still... I hope she has realised enough that trading the stone for us would be a mistake..." His annoyed look gave way to concern, his ice blue eyes narrowed as if in thought.

Isabella sucked in a breath. She wanted to say the right thing, a rare thing for her to offer comfort rather than goading, but she honestly didn't know what that was.

If she were honest with herself, she didn't know what Hawke would do... even _she_ had lost track of where they were. With the trail running cold, _would_ Hawke trade the stone to save her friends? And even if she did, she doubted very much that the mercenaries would let Sebastian go as part of such a parley... given that he very much seemed the target of this scam...

She forced a smile. "Relax! You know Hawke... she knows better than to deal with thugs..."

…...

The room was well lit and warm, a far cry from the cool night air that had now descended on the courtyard outside... although the heat and stench from the unwashed men that idled around the room was a less than welcome addition.

The dark-haired woman steeled herself and willed her irritation to hiss between her teeth as she sighed in aggravation.

How much longer would she be forced to wait? It was bad enough the idiots had attacked the wrong quarry, but to lose the damned stone?! Were she not of such a calm temperament, the men she had entrusted with the task would not have walked away with their throats. But time had taught her that mercy could result in a more interesting conclusion than wiping the blood from her blades, it could lead to the force that drove a man to success... especially when she had taken pains to explain _exactly_ what she would do should they fail again. And those... _descriptions_... had been no exaggeration. It was one thing to make themselves seem the spineless buffoons they were... but it was entirely another to make her look the fool.

It had been sheer luck that tracking the pirate woman had led them to the fugitive King... the man was a turncoat, and even if the cloth he now claimed was that of religion, his faith was not a comfort to the people he had abandoned to tyranny. It almost made her angry _for_ them. The Chantry he had denied all his life was now the sanctuary he clung to in the light of his family's defeat.

_Such cowardice._

But these were not her concerns. Getting the stone back _was_. As well as dealing with the unforeseen complications that had arisen.

Ija cast her mind back to all those years before, remembered that shoddily equipped blonde carving her way through the company's ranks like they were butter. The strength of her form, the savagery of her attack. She had almost been tempted to step in and take the woman down herself had her master not forbade it. He had told Ija to watch and to wait. _Let's see what destiny will do,_ he had said. It had irked her at the time, that he had seemed almost _interested _in that girl.

She smirked drily to herself, _Champion now was it? Destiny indeed._

Ija was pulled from her thoughts as the panting man came to a halt at her table. His face red and slick with sweat. It was with some amusement that she noticed every other daft sod in the room had fallen silent and still, awaiting the orders that would follow the man's report.

"The woman... _Hawke_... she's agreed to an exchange..."

Ija's eyebrow arched doubtfully, "She has..? Let's hear the conditions... I don't doubt that's _all _there is to it..."

"It is, Mistress! Tomorrow at dusk... in Hightown..." He thrust the now thoroughly crumpled paper in her face. She snatched it away swiftly, scanning the words quickly.

No. There was no possibility that this would be as simple as it seemed. Her only stipulations were 'unharmed'... Hawke _had_ to know they wouldn't trade Sebastian... she hadn't even requested the trade on scene... unless they were planning something more... _underhand?_

But _how_? They couldn't have found this base...

Ija smiled to herself. _A game _is_ it, Hawke? Very well... let us play..._

…...


End file.
